


Be Careful What You Wish For

by flawedamythyst



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drugged Sex, M/M, extreme dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-16
Updated: 2009-01-16
Packaged: 2018-10-16 01:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Dean has no idea what the two smirking, dark-eyed men gave Sam in the back room of the bar while he was distracted at the pool table, but by the time Dean comes to find his brother his pupils are blown wide open and his hips are twitching in a way that Dean really shouldn't be fixating on.Originally written for Blindfold_SPN, for the prompt: Top!Sam, dub-con, one of the boys too drunk or drugged to know what they are doing.





	

Dean has no idea what the two smirking, dark-eyed men gave Sam in the back room of the bar while he was distracted at the pool table, but by the time Dean comes to find his brother his pupils are blown wide open and his hips are twitching in a way that Dean really shouldn't be fixating on.

"Come back with us," one of the men is saying in a low voice while the other pulls gently on Sam's arm, leading him towards the back door.

"I need..." says Sam, glancing back over his shoulder blindly. His eyes trail around the room, passing over Dean as if he's just another stranger, and it makes Dean's blood run cold. "There was someone..." He frowns.

"There's just us," says the other man. "Come with us, and we'll show you."

"Take your hands off him," spits out Dean as soon as he's close enough.

The first man lets go of Sam and holds his hands up appeasingly. "Hey, man, no need to get bent out of shape. We're just having a bit of fun."

The other guy's shifting around behind Dean, as if Dean's a rookie who's going to let two guys who've done something to his brother get the drop on him.

"Woah," says Sam, rocking slightly on his feet without the support of the men. "Check out the band." There's no band in the bar – there's not even a jukebox.

Dean pulls out his gun and steps back so that both of the guys are in his eyeline. "You bastards better move the fuck away," he growls, taking off the safety. It clicks loudly, and suddenly the whole bar is silent, every eye fixed on him. The guys freeze, obviously not expecting Dean to be packing. "You get over by the bar," he commands, and they obey immediately.

"Hey," says Sam, eyes almost focusing on Dean. "I know you."

"Course you do, Sam," he says in what he hopes is a reassuring voice. "We're going now, okay?"

"Okay," agrees Sam, compliantly, and he stumbles forward. He slings his arm tight around Dean's shoulders and Dean staggers slightly under the weight before bearing up, slinging his own arm around Sam's back to support him.

"I _do_ know you," says Sam again as they leave the bar. "Josh, right?"

It's like a cold knife in Dean's heart. He's seen Sam so drunk that he can't speak, seen him hallucinating while burning with fever or so high from morphine that he doesn't know which way is down, but not once has he ever not known Dean. He concentrates on getting Sam out of the bar and back to the motel across the street, wishing he could be in two places at once so that he could look after Sammy and fuck those guys up like they deserve.

Sam starts walking steadier once they get outside into the night air, and Dean takes the chance to tuck his gun away.

"Josh," says Sam again, his hand sliding off Dean's shoulder and down his back. "I'm really horny," he announces, and Dean nearly trips over his own feet.

It's absolutely not fair for Sam to say that when he's draped all over Dean, and it's even less fair when his hand slips into Dean's back pocket and squeezes gently. There's only so much denial and repression that Dean can summon, and he's already running at about his limit when Sam's this close. Forcing down his unnatural want in the face of Sam's groping hand is an almost impossible task.

"You have a really hot ass," says Sam, and he pulls away, hanging back for a second to check it out.

"Jesus, Sam," exclaims Dean, completely thrown. He grabs the sleeve of Sam's jacket and pulls him firmly towards the motel. He needs to get Sam in bed and asleep right the fuck now, before this gets any more out of hand.

Sam's hand somehow finds its way back down to Dean's ass, fingertips tracing across it in a way that makes Dean shiver and his cock twitch. "I'd love to fuck it," says Sam, and for a moment Dean's horribly tempted to say yes, to let Sam do whatever he wants just for one night, so that he can at least have this once. He tries hard to pull himself together but somehow he can't bring himself to move away from Sam's hand.

"That's not going to happen, Sammy," he says instead, trying to hold firm against what his body is begging him to say yes to.

"Don't call me Sammy," frowns Sam as Dean stops to get their motel room door open. "That's not yours to call me."

It's like a flash of cold water for Dean. Sam has no idea that he's talking to Dean - whoever he's seeing, whoever this Josh is, it's not Dean. He's drugged and fucked up, and Dean needs to rein his libido in. He pulls away from Sam's hand as soon as the door's open and marches inside.

He takes off his jacket and dumps it on the desk as the door shuts behind him. "You should go to bed," he says. "Sleep it off."

Hands appear around his waist, smoothing over his stomach and pulling him back against Sam. "We both could go to bed," rumbles Sam's voice in his ear, and it's so fucking hot that Dean can't breathe for a moment.

"No," he says, hoping he sounds a whole lot surer than he feels, and he pulls away. "Go to bed, Sam. Alone."

There's a heartfelt sigh, and then the sound of clothes being taken off. Dean won't completely relax until tomorrow, when Sam's back to normal, but part of the tension gripping his spine sinks away, and he starts to get ready for bed himself, pulling off his boots.

When he turns around, Sam is spread out on his bed, chest bare and his jeans open. One hand is in his pants, clearly fondling his erection, and Dean can't tear his eyes away from the sight, from the long, heavy length of Sam's cock pulling his jeans tight and the slow, careful movements of his fingers around it.

"Come on," says Sam, "you know you want it. You know you're just a slut for my cock."

And God, Dean wants to be, wants to suck it right down his throat, wants to feel it forcing open his ass, wants to feel just how big and thick it is with every part of him, but he _can't_.

"I said no," he forces out. _It's not what he wants,_ he reminded himself. _Just the drug._

Sam clearly doesn't believe Dean's denial any more than Dean does, and he pulls himself upright in a quick, lithe movement that seems to draw attention to all of his long, muscled body. The clumsiness of early seems to have completely disappeared as he prowls towards Dean. Dean feels frozen in place, as if he's the one who's been drugged, and Sam pushes him back against the wall.

"You don't mean it," he breathes into Dean's neck, rubbing his body up against Dean's. Dean tries to push him away, but Sam's not just stupidly tall, he's built as well, and Dean's push has almost no effect on him.

"I do," he says, pushing down the panic rising up in him. "We're not doing this, Sam."

"Oh, we are," says Sam and he rubs his hand hard against Dean's cock, feeling the shape of it through Dean's jeans. Dean's been half-hard since Sam first touched him, and he can't hide how Sam's touch brings him to a full erection. "You want to," points out Sam, and starts to work open Dean's jeans.

"No," says Dean. "No, Sam," he tries again, and pushes at Sam's chest, but Sam's not moving, just forcing his hand into Dean's pants, around Dean's cock, and squeezing.

"If this is how you want it, Josh," Sam says, "then that's how we'll do it." He pushes one of his thighs between Dean's legs, trapping him even closer to the wall with his body, and lays his other arm across Dean's chest, holding him in place just as Dean pulls himself together enough to start to struggle properly.

"I'm not Josh," he spits out. "I'm not Josh, and I don't want this, let me go, Sam. Let me go!"

Sam laughs darkly and leans in close to bite hard at Dean's earlobe. "You do want this," he whispers. "I can feel it. Gonna show you how much you want it."

His hand keeps working at Dean's cock, sending lightning bolts of lust through Dean because it's so close to what he's always wanted, but so damned far, and it's not _fair_.

"I'm gonna fuck you against this wall," growls Sam next to his ear, "Gonna fuck you right here, gonna make you moan for it like a pornstar."

Sam's hot, heavy voice and filthy words in Dean's ear, and his fingers tight around Dean's cock have turned Dean's muscles to water, and when Sam pulls away to flip Dean around to face the wall, Dean's struggle to get free is a little pathetic and completely useless against Sam's extra weight and height.

Sam laughs darkly into Dean's ear, pulling his jeans and boxers down around his thighs and forcing him to spread his legs. "You're going to have to be more convincing than that if you want me to believe you don't want this," he says.

He holds Dean's wrist tightly in one hand against the wall as he fumbles with his own jeans, and Dean grabs back enough coherency to gasp out, "I don't. Don't want this, Sam, don't do this, not like this."

Sam sticks two fingers in his mouth to shut him up. "You better suck hard on these," he advises, "cos your spit's all the lube you're getting."

Dean shuts his eyes tight against the humiliation, and sucks on them, covering them with as much saliva as he can. He hates admitting defeat, but there's no way he can fight Sam off like this, and Sam's clearly not listening to reason right now. This thing is happening, whether he wants it to or not, and even now he's finding it hard to deny the part of him that really, really wants it to.

"Don't," he chokes out again when Sam pulls his fingers away, but Sam ignores him in favour of pushing one of his fingers inside of Dean, just too fast and too hard. The burn of it and the friction drag of not enough slick makes Dean cry out.

"Yeah," says Sam, and Dean can hear how the lust is making him crazy. "God, so tight, Josh, can't wait to get my cock in you."

Just one finger is too much, but Sam barely waits at all before adding a second. Dean feels ripped open and vulnerable, and he can hear his own hoarse panting, the loudest thing in the room.

"No," he tries again, but he's not sure Sam can hear him at all any more.

"Your ass is so hot," Sam says, pushing his fingers deeper inside Dean and then stretching him open. "God, I need to be inside you. Need to feel it."

He pulls his fingers out even faster than they went in, and Dean groans again at the pain, just as he was almost getting used to the burn of Sam's fingers. He hears Sam spit into his hand and slick it around his cock, and braces himself against what he knows is coming. He knows he should be trying to relax as much as possible, but the moment he feels the head of Sam's cock nudging bluntly at his entrance, he tenses up.

"Come on," hisses Sam in his ear. "Come on, let me...just let me...please."

Dean's never been able to say no to Sam saying please in that tone of voice, and he finds himself relaxing for a split-second, just long enough for Sam to push in past the first tight ring of muscle.

It hurts more than he could have thought possible, more than popping a dislocated shoulder back in, and he can barely breathe, can't even hear the pained noises he's making. Sam doesn't seem to hear them either, pushing in further in a slow, steady movement, his hand so tight around Dean's wrists that Dean can feel his bones grinding together.

Sam stops when he's all the way in, hips pressed against Dean's ass, and Dean tries to breathe through the pain, tries to relax and adjust around the cock splitting him in half.

"God, oh, God," pants Sam, and it sounds like he's having some kind of biblical revelation. Hearing that note in Sam's voice now, during this, feels like a mockery of everything Dean's ever felt for Sam and he wonders if this is some kind of karmic payback for lusting after his baby brother in the first place.

"God, Josh, I have to...gonna have to..." says Sam, and Dean puts his head down, rests his forehead against the wall, and tries to shut out everything that's happening.

When Sam starts moving, it's not the fast, harsh thrusting that Dean was expecting. Instead, he moves slowly, dragging his cock out and then sinking back in as if he cares about not hurting Dean.

"So fucking hot," he moans, and Dean wishes he could shut his ears against the sound of his brother's voice so fucked out and desperate. "I could do this all night."

 _God, I hope not_ , thinks Dean, but his cock, which had softened with the pain, is beginning to come back to life as his body adjusts to Sam, as he remembers how to do this, how to take it and make it good. Sam seems to know as well, and he's only a few strokes in when he finds Dean's prostate, rubbing slowly against it in a way that makes it impossible for Dean to hold in his groan of reaction.

"Yeah, God, yeah," says Sam. "So good." The dark place in Dean's mind that's wanted this for years, and doesn't really care how or why it's happening, seems to take more and more control with every careful push inside him, with every nudge of Sam's cock against Dean's prostate.

Sam's hand blindly gropes to find Dean's cock, then tightens hard around it. "Want you to come," Sam gasps, and Dean curses, because wouldn't it just figure that Sam's a talker, dirty words slipping past his lips and into Dean's ears like the worst kind of dark magic. "Want to feel you come while I'm inside you, want you clenching around me."

His hand seems to know exactly how to work Dean, and his cock is almost welcome in Dean's body now, especially when he speeds up slightly, pushing in harder at just the right angle. Dean doesn't want to come - doesn't want to validate this act in any way, but he knows enough to know it's an inevitability and that there's no damn way he could stop it. He might as well hold on and try and enjoy the ride. He squeezes his eyes tighter shut and tries to imagine what this would be like if Sam was doing this for real, if he wasn't drugged and knew who Dean was and wanted this anyway, but it's too hard to match up reality with a fantasy.

"Sam," he finds himself saying. "Sam, Sam, Sam." Heat is surging through his body, orgasm building in his balls, and Sam tugs harder at his cock.

"Come for me, do it," he mutters in Dean's ear, and Dean does, shooting his load over Sam's hand and his own stomach, biting down hard on his lip to stop himself saying his brother's name again.

"Fuck, yeah," groans Sam, and his thrusts speed up, hips pistoning harder against Dean's ass. When he comes, he bites down hard on Dean's shoulder and Dean can feel Sam's come spurting out inside him, filling him up.

Sam rests heavily against Dean's back for a long moment, then pulls out, stepping back. Dean turns round and puts his back to the wall, ready to defend himself if Sam tries anything else, but he doesn't. He just grins at Dean, fucked out and exhausted, sweat gleaming on his forehead, hair messed up in a way that still makes Dean want to ruffle his hand through it, even after everything that's happened tonight.

"That was awesome," Sam announces, then stumbles back towards his bed and crashes out on it. "Thanks, Josh," he adds before he rolls himself up in his blankets and apparently passes out.

Dean stares at him for a long few minutes, torn between conflicting desires. He wants to sink down to the floor right where he is and put his head in his hands, he wants to take the hottest shower he can in this crappy motel, he wants to climb into bed and go to sleep and wake up with this as nothing more than a bad dream. A large part of him, though, still just wants to crawl into bed beside Sam and curl up with him, and that makes him feel even sicker than the thought of what Sam's just done does.


End file.
